


he loves me, he loves me not

by astaeria



Category: VIXX
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, One-Shot, half-assed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 18:49:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13277712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astaeria/pseuds/astaeria
Summary: -- had he not taken care of his flowers well all this time?





	he loves me, he loves me not

hongbin’s life was a mess.

he realized this as soon as he looked up from his sitting curled ball position that he was doing in the middle of the room, scanning his surroundings with his blurry tear-stained vision.

tossed over furniture, shards of shattered glass, flipped over chairs… truly, there were too much broken things to dictate in that room

..and he reckoned his heart wasn’t any different from it.

hongbin tilted his head and spotted a small bouquet of flowers lying down on the floor an arm away from him, surrounded by its shattered flower vase, like a child inside a broken home, a comparison most compatible with lee hongbin himself.

with every last drop of his non-existent energy, hongbin reached for the bouquet, not bothering to shake off the shards that could cut his skin. he didn’t care, he was already hurting enough inside to.

he caressed the petals of the flowers, noticing the rough texture in some of them. it wasn’t obvious, but his lips had curved into the slightest frown at the discovery. had he not taken care of his flowers well all this time?

absentmindedly, he pulled a petal a little too hard, taking it off the stem and separating it from the other petals.

he stared at it, fiddling it with his long yet frail fingers. he was reminded of those little things that children do when they pluck out the petals of the flowers.

what was the purpose of that, really? it seemed pointless, picking out the petals of the prettiest flowers and throwing them away as f they were not part of the things that keep us alive in this polluted world.

nevertheless, hongbin didn’t think twice to imitate them.

“he loves me.”

in his mind swam millions of memories that took place in different times and different places, but with the same familiar face; cha hakyeon’s.

he remembered all of the times he had the said face as the first thing he would see whenever he woke up. he remembered how always looked like the sun in all aspects; his bright smile, his twinkling eyes, his hot bed hair aura. he remembered how they would stay for an hour or two more in the bed all to cuddle and say sweet nothings to each other in the raspiest voices, despite their morning breath.

“he loves me not.”

a negative feeling immediately wrapped around his heart at the words, tongue dripping with bitterness and heart throbbing with pain. he suddenly felt cold, like those rainy mornings he woke up to with an empty bed that had nothing but him and his tears that stained the pillows beneath his head, tangled in sheets that had no purpose with the chills remaining in his chest.

“he loves me.”

his fingers tingled as he reminisced the meal times he spent preparing for it with him, the times where they would cook for each other, depending on what day it was, while the other would have the job to distract the cook. it was often unsuccessful for both sides, with them eating something, but there were also times where the cook would get too distracted that the food would end up burnt and they would end up getting out to grab take out instead, which were usually when hongbin takes over the kitchen.

“he loves me not.”

hongbin never wanted to take over the kitchen, especially when he was alone, because he would always be preoccupied, so filled with thoughts of regret, guilt, longing, sadness that seemed to fill his stomach more than his cooking had ever done.

“he loves me.”

they said nights were supposed to be cold.

there were times where hongbin wanted to disagree.

the warm touches, hugs, kisses that sparked fires inside them at such hours kept them warm enough to survive any snow storm, and to be frank, if hongbin was to wish to have something all to himself for his whole lifetime, that was it; warmth, and not just any warmth, but the warmth that came from anything and everything that hakyeon does to him.

“he loves me not.”

there were times where hongbin wanted to agree. so badly.

the absence of his warmth killed him in the darkest and loneliest times of the night. no, not instantly. hongbin wished, though, because the process was slow, yet super painful. it was as if he was going to die from hypothermia and there was no other source of heat besides hakyeon and his love.

“he loves me… not.”

he whispered the heartbreaking sentence under his breath over and over again with every pluck of a petal, with the worst memories replaying in his mind—cold shoulders, frowning expressions, loud voices, curse words, sounds of things being broken. fights. fights. more and more fights. 

he whispered the heartbreaking sentence under his breath over and over again with every pluck of a petal, until there was only one petal left to pluck.

his hand itched to take it off, to end the flower’s life completely, but before he could, he felt a presence fill in the space that was in front of him. a moment later, hongbin felt his lips being closed by another a pair of lips that was far too familiar for him to forget.

as the two broke away from the kiss, they looked at each other intently.

hongbin noticed the sadness in hakyeon’s uniquely shaped eyes.

“he loved you,” hakyeon whispered to hongbin.

afterwards, he watched hakyeon walk past the messy obstacles and to the door, leaving hongbin all alone and stunned.

hongbin blinked, then looked at the flower in his hand. its stem was getting bent, the flower was drooping, and the last petal was threatening to fall.

perhaps he didn’t take of the flowers as well as he thought.

perhaps he did the same to hakyeon, too.

with that, hongbin watched as the last petal give up and fall slowly and gracefully to the ground, along with his tears and his heart.


End file.
